


Rough Beginnings

by SupposedToBeWriting



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Less Angry Jesse, POV Genji Shimada, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Slight AU (in terms of relative ages), Unreliable Narrator, angry genji, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 18:19:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18816421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupposedToBeWriting/pseuds/SupposedToBeWriting
Summary: Genji's recently been conscripted into Overwatch, knocking Jesse out of 'new guy' status. He isn't here to make friends -- in fact, he's planning to get out as soon as possible and murder his brother in cold blood. Figuring teamwork makes the dream work, Genji and Jesse make a plan to break out together, even if he can't stand the cowboy. Like, at all.Not a tiny bit.





	1. Isolation

_Hum._ Everything was faintly muffed, inside of his helmet. The closest conversation was happening no further than six feet away from him – _something something training days something something mission –_ but he, blissfully, didn’t make out anything distinct.

Dr. Ziegler had suggested that he at least let her adjust the stereo capabilities of the helmet. It was not _supposed_ to block out external sound. Or, she had added, he could simply remove the helmet. The scarring on his face was not as bad as the rest of his body (which was a laughable consolation), and it would make him seem more approachable.

_Hah._ Approachable. What use did he have with approachable?

He preferred, instead, to loom over his tray, not touching it. Touching it would entail removing the helmet. And he was not going to remove the helmet.

“ _Well,_ howdy, partner. What’re you doin’ all on your lonesome?”

The cowboy.

“Leave me.” Genji didn’t even flinch when Jesse McCree swung one leg over the bench. This was not an unusual interaction. McCree had done the same, for the last two consecutive weeks, ever since Genji had been released from Medical.

McCree was not doing this out of friendship, Genji knew. He was being an ass. He _was_ an ass.

McCree did not, in fact, leave. He sat with a cigar in his mouth, chomping on it. “You gonna eat that?” A grimy finger gestured towards his dessert. With a sigh, Genji pushed his tray towards him. He had _wanted_  to eat lunch on his lonesome, in whatever miserable crevice he could hide himself in, because then he could remove the helmet in peace instead of waiting for everyone to clear out.

He could not clear out early. Glancing across the mess hall, Genji met the eyes of Gabriel Reyes. Commander Reyes always sat with Morrison and Amari. Yet, Genji felt as if his eyes were on him, always, daring him to act out.

Genji had replaced McCree as the new guy, though not by much. McCree had been here eight months. He did not think it was a coincidence that McCree also never seemed to sit with anyone, content as he was to stroll in twenty minutes late, scarf down something as if he were starving, and then eat Genji’s.

“How you been’, sparky?” McCree drawled to him, mouth full. “You’re lookin’ more ornery than possible. Somebody try ‘n knock on yer suit like you’re a big tinman?”

_Fuck you._ Genji glared daggers into the stupid, the _insipid,_ the _imbecile_ cowboy in front of him. _Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you._

“Fountain of conversation, as always.” Finished with Genji’s food, Jesse let out a satisfied belch and placed the cigar back in his mouth. There was a cruel leer in his eyes. “C’mon. I worked with Omnics all the time, back then. It don’t matter none to me.”

At the _O_ -word, Genji bolted to his feet. Silverware clinked to the floor, and a cup soon followed, cracking loudly against the linoleum.

Omnics. It was a word both _whispered_ and _thrown_ at him. Some did not have cruel intentions, and some did (like _McCree)_ , but Genji could not care about something like _intention._ Anger thumped through his veins, and even if it was irrational, Genji swore he could see it, bright and red and surging through the wires coming in and out of his body.

He had not liked Omnics before all this. He had not liked them because they had been the reason for Hanzo’s near death, why he had struggled to remove his prosthetics at night before sleep for so long.

Now, he did not like them because they had not succeeded in killing his brother.

Dozens of heads turned to look at him, at the raging, irrational robot that was clearly not Blackwatch, or Overwatch, material. Genji couldn’t help but agree with that sentiment. When Genji raised his head, he locked eyes with his commander again. Reyes looked pissed.

_Fuck him, too._

“Say that word to me again,” Genji thundered through his helmet, “And I will run my sword through your teeth.”

Not caring if people were still watching, not caring if he would be reprimanded for this later, not caring if the entire building collapsed on him at that moment, Genji set his jaw and walked out of the mess hall. _I’ll eat later._

\---

“You know,” Angela’s voice drawled, “He is actually behaving better. I’m not making excuses for him – what he said was inexcusable. But, comparatively, he has been much better than when he first got here.”

Genji raised his sword and brought it down on a dummy, right through the center. There was a broken one next to him, and a few uninstalled ones in the corner. He would be making use of them all in that training session. Physical therapy. Genji saw it for what it was – training for missions under the inspection of a doctor. They wanted him mission-ready as soon as possible, the fools. “I find that,” he grunted, extracting his blade, “Extremely hard to believe.”

“He was. So _angry._ Sat right where you did, glowered at everyone. Just like you. Except he used to start fights. He’d threaten _everybody_ just for looking at him. He’d be in my Medical Wing every other day. ‘Doc Zieg,” Angela continued in a faux-Southwestern accent, “ ‘I was just showing them I ain’t getting fucked with.’ I mean, what did he think we are? A fight club?” Angela turned a page of a medical report, her other hand languidly stirring a cup of tea. Genji’s was on the table, untouched.

Genji jabbed at the dummy again, his plating scraping against the floor as he rolled behind the inanimant figure. “A prison,” he grunted. “At least the cowboy was given the choice of here or _jail._ If I did not join, you would not have permitted me to _walk._ ”

“Genji,” Angela admonished him. They had had this conversation before. Angela would insist that she would have, at least, healed him. She had an oath, he said. Genji would respond with acid that Shimadas also took an oath to protect their family. Oaths meant little.

The conversation was tiring, and frustrating. Genji did not want to have it that night. Instead, he turned to another line of conversation. “What changed in him?”

“I do not know.” Pausing. Angela was lying. “There could have been many things. He went along with Commander Reyes on a few missions. It seemed to set in that he would be here for a long while, and fighting everyone wasn’t the most healthy mindset.” She made eye contact with Genji, and Genji grunted. _That is not a lesson for me, doctor._ “And, I think there should be something said that he is no longer our newest teammate.”

“Is that what this is? He acts like that because I am a _newcomer?_ ” Genji dimly remembered the Shimada method of recruiting new members, how they were given brutal, exhausting missions to prove their worth. The idea that McCree was doing the same to him filled him with rage, again, and unthinking, he stabbed his sword into the dummy, used the leverage to swing around, across the hand, and – “ _Ah!”_

One of the dozen tubes holding him together, this one connecting fluid in his forearm to fluid in his back, had gotten caught. He had jerked against it, not entirely removing it, but … yes, those were definitely … blood vessels. And that was definitely muscle.

Angela was standing, reaching for her staff. “That’s enough for today, Genji, that – “ As she turned around, she witnessed Genji reaching for the handle of his sword again. _No. I’m fine. I have two hands._ Before he could yank his blade out of the dummy, a shot from Angela’s blaster pistol richocheted off the edge of it. The impact made him reel back with a hiss. “I said _enough!”_

Genji looked up at her with fury. But … there was blood, now, he could feel it. And there was pain. He tried to continue his look at her, but he could not maintain it. Instead, with a barely concealed sob, he lowered his head to the floor.

He felt useless.

***

After the incident with Jesse in the lunchroom, and the incident with Angela in training (though how much Angela had told Reyes, he did not know), Commander Reyes had given the order that he remain in his quarters for the night. It was most assuredly a punishment. Genji did not see it as such. With his arm in a careful splint, Genji had settled himself on the bed and had no plans for moving the rest of the evening.

Fuck McCree. Fuck Commander Reyes, for that matter. He would be out of here soon enough. He had given his word that he would stay, but Genji no longer put any value in his word. There was never any intention to stay.

How many lives would they throw at him when he eventually left, anyway? They would not find him worth all the trouble. Genji ran his finger through his dinner, picking up a floret of broccoli and chewing at it. His helmet was off to the side, somewhere. He hated looking at it from the outside.

On his tablet, Genji scrolled down to read news of Hanamura.

_Hanzo first,_ Genji swore to himself, _And then the clan._

There was nothing unusual on the front page. It was rare that the Shimada family’s crimes were reported upon, as shadowy as they were. Genji’s finger stilled at the mention of the local flower festival. It would be starting soon.

_He was too large to be riding on his brother’s shoulders, really. But Hanzo betrayed no sense of exhaustion as Genji strained himself to reach for the cherry blossom. There were a thousand others, but the fun of it all was trying to get this one. ‘Brother!’ He commanded, young voice squeaky as he hit the limit of his reach. ‘Higher!’_

_Hanzo, making sure he was securing Genji by his legs, only laughed at him. ‘Any higher and you’ll fall,’ he admonished, swaying a little as Genji jerked. ‘What kind of brother would I be?’_

Genji tasted blood. He was  biting his cheek. _Fuck._ Releasing himself, Genji seethed in fury. _Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you._ This was not his brother, all of that had been a _lie,_ and soon, Hanzo would see, and Hanzo would _pay._

He shook his head out of it, scrolling further down the news. No, the flower festival was unimportant for his larger mission. He wanted, _needed,_ details, a hint, perhaps even a sign that now was the optimal time to strike. To leave, to end his brother’s life, to make him look upon the face of the man he had killed and see the machine he had created.

As he reached the missing persons section of the paper (always present, in Hanamura), Genji received his sign.

_HAVE YOU SEEN HANZO SHIMADA?_

There was a photo of his brother, below. A brief description of his physical appearance. Genji felt his pulse race as he hurried past it (like he would ever be able to remove the image of what his brother looked like, how he’d _killed_ him out of his mind) to the details of his last appearance.

Five days ago.

If he’d left Hanamura (Hanzo would not have been kidnapped, it was _Hanzo),_ that meant he was isolated. Vulnerable. He had his arrows, yes, but Genji had very, very little to lose. If he died again? He only accelerated the inevitable. And if it gave him a chance of vengeance, Genji would not hesitate.

Why he left Hanamura, Genji didn’t care. Not an undercover mission, there wouldn’t be a missing persons snippet otherwise, but he did not give one single _fucking damn_. It was a mistake that Genji would take advantage of.

Turning the tablet face down, Genji looked into the mirror in his room. A monster looked back at him. For the first time in a long while, Genji smiled.

_He was getting out._  


	2. Getting Vengeance

His week was going _better and better._

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me,” McCree muttered under his breath. “C’mon. Can’t you just put me against Moira?”

The scientist herself was leaning against the wall with a tablet clutched in her hands. Every swipe or tap made an unpleasant _scritch_ against the glass surface; Genji wasn’t sure how it wasn’t driving her crazy. Although he took Angela for granted, Genji quietly felt grateful that his primary physician was Dr. Ziegler. Dr. O'Deorain … _looked_ at him uncomfortably.

Reyes’ arms were crossed against his chest. “You gotta learn how to hold yourself against someone faster than you.” He jerked his head towards Genji. “And I’ve sparred with you all this week, Jesse. It’s about time you spar with someone with a different training style. Spit out your cigar.”

Jesse scowled, keeping the disgusting thing firmly in his mouth. Usually, it would drive Genji insane. Now … oh, this feeling was new. He was _smug._

“Scared, cowboy?” He purred, and it appeared that, now, the cowboy was refusing to look at him. Oh, _delicious._

“You two get on the mat. Jesse, if you choke on that thing, don’t come crying to me. Genji, remove your weapons.”

“I _am_ a weapon.”

“Cry me a river.”

Sighing, Genji placed his sword to the side. Shurikens were next. Ankle knives third. He maintained eye contact with Jesse the entire time, eventually walking to face Jesse on the mat. Jesse’s only course of action was to remove his hat, toss it to the side, and then give Peacekeeper a little toss onto it.

“Are you planning on scaring your enemies away with your hair?” Genji shot at him, starting to circle his target. Jesse’s hair was so _greasy._ It reminded him of his own, which hadn’t quite started to grow back in yet. Time, if he survived that long.

Jesse continued to circle. “Dunno if trash talkin’ is part of the exercise, partner.”

From his spot, Reyes only chuckled. “Part of the game, McCree. Now, you two actually going to throw a punch or just gonna square dance? I can call Morrison in here for some pointers.”

This was going to be _fun._ Genji dashed forward to him, hitting him square in the chest. McCree, in turn, fell backward and got pinned. He delighted himself in a series of flurrying blows to his chest and neck until McCree’s boot found purchase on his abdomen, kicking him hard and sending him back.

Moira didn’t look up from her spot. “Play nice, boys. Whoever loses is a candidate for my newest serum.”

_Yikes._

Genji swept his leg out, making contact with Jesse’s ankles. His legs fell out from underneath him, letting him fall to the ground. When Jesse scrambled to his feet, Genji did it again.

“Stop _doing_ that, fuck,” Jesse hissed, rolling over before Genji could stomp in his ribcage.

“Maybe you should get better at fighting.”

The look Jesse gave him made Genji laugh. Although Jesse had landed a punch or two, Genji had hardly felt a thing. That, in itself, was staggering – was this the rest of his life? Doomed to feel nothing, for most of his body? Just a person in a machine?

“You’re doing great, Jesse, don’t let up now.” Reyes had resumed his spot against the wall, arms crossed as he looked at him.

Jesse sighed, rubbing grime off his face. “All because I called him a damn Omnic,” he half-mumbled to himself, casting a glare at his Commander.

Oh, so _that_ was why. Well, in that case, Genji’s opinion of Reyes increased a half-percent. Although he had no doubts Reyes would want him dead when he eventually fled the compound, he _did_ approve of Reyes’ strategy of letting him beat the shit out of anyone who insulted him.

Genji smiled behind his helmet, going after Jesse again.

The sparring went on for a few minutes more, not particularly swaying to Jesse’s side during any point. Genji had Jesse’s face shoved onto the floor, had laughed in joy as he twisted Jesse’s arm behind him, had kicked, slapped, and jabbed. Jesse was breathing heavily. Every few seconds, he looked towards Reyes – silently pleading for help, Genji thought with joy.

Jesse was not out of shape, really, there was firm muscle underneath his armor and he likely had more lifting strength than even Genji did. But he was a sharpshooter at heart. Genji, although at a significant disadvantage without his weapons, was _built for this._

Leaping at Jesse again, Genji stuck his foot against his back. He reached for his arm and tugged it tight around his back, his left arm scrabbling uselessly at the mat. _Time to end this._ As he did so, he leaned in close to Jesse’s ear. “Beg for mercy _,_ cowboy.’

“Jesus, man, why do you gotta make everything into foreplay?” Jesse wriggled against his grip and found no purchase. Looking up, Reyes had pushed himself off his spot on the wall to watch with interest. _Please, no. I’m enjoying myself too much._ Genji pushed him a little further into the mat, seeing Jesse’s hand twitch up towards his face, likely protecting it, no doubt, vain little cowboy that he was.

That was, until, Jesse threw his arm back to press his still-burning cigar end into Genji’s _very_ human neck.

“Aaaah!”

Genji leapt back with a shout, fingers pressing against his skin. A burn. It _singed._ The butt had fell to the mat and sizzled for a few seconds before going out. Genji hardly noticed while he placed pressure into his neck, shocked.

“Alright, alright. I’m calling it. _Jesse,”_  Reyes sighed, aggrieved. He was pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the fuck.”

Jesse sat up with a stupid smirk on his face. “Yes, Commander?” He asked sweetly, eyelashes fluttering.

“I don’t need to tell you that was cheating. I said no weapons.”

“’scuse you. That was _creative problem-solving.”_

“Uh, yeah, like shit it was. You’ve got exercise room clean-up duty for that little move. Wipe everything down.” At Jesse’s obvious complaint, Reyes put up a finger. “ _Look._ What if your opponent had been an Omnic? They wouldn’t feel a burn. You’d be dead.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t a … “ Jesse trailed off, his eyes resting on Genji. Genji had more-or-less ignored the conversation in favor of pressing a water bottle, cold, against his neck. _That felt better._ He’d never had a particularly high pain tolerance – ironic, given the amount of pain he had been put through. Reaching for the clasp to his helmet, Genji tossed it to the side so he could angle the water bottle better against the burn. Matching eyes with Jesse, Genji glared back at him.

Reyes turned towards the cyborg. “Don’t wanna hear it. Genji, how you doin’? You need a doc?” Moira’s face lit up somewhat at that as she pushed herself off the wall. Nope.

“I’m fine.” And he was, really. At least, fine enough not to have to submit himself to Moira’s experiments. “Americans play dirty.”

“Hey, don’t lump the rest of us in with him, he’s just the mascot.” Reyes had stuck out a hand to help Genji up, but Genji preferred to stay on the ground at the moment. “You’re on clean-up duty, too, by the way, if you’re fine.”

“ _What?”_

“I’m not saying you fought _bad_ , Shimada. But you keep toying with your opponents like that, and they’re gonna end up taking advantage of it. Case in point,” Reyes gestured towards the water bottle. “I’ll see you both in the morning. If one of you kills the other, make sure you clean up the mess. Morrison uses this place in the mornings with his crew.”

Furiously glaring up at the commander, Genji could only sit as he and Moira walked out. Moira always stood too close to the Commander. He would have thought it was a romantic fascination, but … he had stared at his dinner with less hunger.

Not his problem. He would be out of here soon enough.

“And now I’m out my cigar, too. Damn it,” Jesse sighed, standing up. “Do you, uh, think Reyes planned this, or …?”

Genji stared up at him blankly.

“Yeah, you’re right. Probably not. Well, I’m just gonna clean over there, if you get here, and I don’t think I bled on the mat, but … well, your fault if I did.”

Mechanically, Genji stood and started to reach for the rags and spray. _This will be done soon. Then you can keep planning._ He had drafted a little plan inside of his head – simply walking out, with so many agents capable of flight, was impossible – but there were still considerations to make.

Genji had almost entirely forgotten his helmet, ingrained his thoughts, before he came upon it during his cleaning of the mat. He picked it up and inspected it before tucking it under his shoulder. Putting it on would rub against the burn. _No thanks._

“So I ain’t – I mean, I ain’t above admittin’ that I make mistakes, sometimes.” Jesse blurted out suddenly. He was across the room, facing away. Genji barely heard him, as quiet as his voice was. “Just wanted to say that I was sorry. About the Omnic comment. Didn’t believe it, was just … trying to get a rise outta ya, I think, not that that excuses it none.”

There was one benefit of being here – having to listen to Jesse’s babble had greatly improved his own already passable English.

Still. Nobody had really … apologized to him, here, before.

“It is fine,” Genji found himself saying. “I am a machine. You were mostly correct.”

Jesse hesitated for a few beats. “Well, if you’re a machine, you miiiight wanna have a talk with your maker. That human skin of yours is one hell of a design flaw.”

Usually, such a comment would send him into a rage. Now, no anger came, only mild amusement. Jesse was making a joke, not at his expense. “My makers are no longer in this world. My father … and mother.” Not that he had known his mother much to begin with. Hanzo had known her more. From his stories, she wasn’t exactly the kind, patient woman Genji always saw in his head. “But I will inform them regardless.”

Jesse cracked a smile. “Well, I think they ain’t really the ones you gotta tousle with. ‘s that Hanzo fella that did it, right?”

“Indeed.” Genji paused, acid coloring his voice. “My brother. I _will_ have my vengeance against him.” Although he had never admitted it out loud to another soul, Jesse did not look particularly surprised. “I will be the last remaining member of the Shimada family. I will hold their memory in disgust.”

“I ain’t sayin’ that you’re _wrong_ for doing that, but, uh.” Jesse scratched his head with the bottle of cleaning solution. “Just sayin’ that Overwatch ain’t particularly fond of quests for vengeance. They’ll try an’ arrest Hanzo and the rest of yer clan, sure, but they’re not too fond of killin’.”

Genji fell silent. He knew. He never had any faith that Overwatch would allow him to get the vengeance he needed. Therefore, the plan to leave in the first place.

“Aw, _fuck._ You ain’t thinking of running off, are ya?”

His eyes snapped up to bore holes into Jesse, who had put down his rag to stare at him. Was this man a mind-reader? Although it seemed impossible, there were enough _strange_ men here that he would not be overly surprised.

“I’m just sayin – I had the same idea when I first got here. I got sold out by my gang – not literally, but they sure as hell didn’t offer to help none when I got captured.” Jesse sat himself down on one of the weight machines, one leg on either side like he was riding a bronco. “Anyhow, I had all these plans of getting my vengeance against them. Telling you right now, Genji – bad idea.”

“I did not ask for your _input.”_  Genji didn’t realize that was a silent admission until it was out of his mouth.

“Well, tough shit, I’m giving it to ya. I tried to run off two dozen times in my first few months. Every time, I got dragged back, got the shittiest assignments, until I lost the fight for it. It ain’t possible. They got every inch of this place locked down. They may treat ya nice, but they sure as hell ain’t forgettin’ that they gave me the choice of prison or here.”

“You are hardly _quiet,_ cowboy. I am not surprised you were caught.”

“Ain’t the point. ‘sides, I’m all-American flesh, sugar. How do you know they ain’t put a tracker in you under all that wires?”

Such a thought hadn’t occurred to him. Genji paled, feeling his heart sink. He could only outrun them for so long, if they truly had an intention to bring him back. “I only need a little time. I only need to find Hanzo. The rest – my clan – Overwatch can arrest them, it does not matter to me, truly. But I _must_ see Hanzo pay for what he has done.”

For the first time, Jesse seemed to really see him. His eyes travelled down his body. How the human portion of him was still red and irritated where it pressed against the metal, the cords looping in and out of his skin, how not even his face had escaped the scars from where his own brother had used his own blade against him.

Perhaps he had sympathy. Perhaps he saw an opportunity. Genji was not sure, but he had not been expecting an offer of help.

“Well. Like I said, I’m the expert in getting out of the damn place, even if I didn’t get very far,” Jesse’s voice had lowered to a whisper. “Tell you what. I’ll help you get out of here. Hell, I’ll even help you get to your brother. But Overwatch is gonna wanna bring you back more than they’re gonna wanna bring me back. Soon as I help you find him, I’m out. They won’t be able to find my trail once I get far enough away. You, though? They’re gonna get you back, eventually. For sure.”

“You still want to escape? After your time here?”

“Look. Reyes is a good guy, and he ain’t treated me much like a criminal. But I got a score to settle with Deadlock.” Something dark and dangerous flashed in Jesse’s eyes. A smoldering anger. Genji recalled Dr. Ziegler’s talk about McCree’s fighting. “I know where I belong, Genji, and I know I ain’t no hero.”

Genji flushed. He had almost forgotten that they had recruited him here to fight for the forces of good. That they wanted him to be a hero. What a _laugh._

“You help me get to my brother,” Genji vowed, standing to reach for his shurikens. One by one, he loaded them back into his arm. It gave his arm a reassuring weight again, one that he was getting horrifyingly used to. “And I will allow you to leave in peace.”

The casing on his arm slid shut and Genji turned. When he did, he realized he was face-to-face with Jesse. Jesse spit on his hand and extended it towards him, seemingly without hesitating. “Sounds like a deal to me, partner.”

“What … are you doing?”

“It’s a spit oath.”

“ _Why?”_

“It _means_ I won’t break it. Here, just give me – “ Jesse made a swipe for Genji’s human hand and, in disgust, Genji yanked it from his reach.

“ _Dude,_ I don’t want your spit on me.” Hanzo used to get on him for that. So _American,_ hardly _professional._ Dude. “Oath. Oath sworn. We’re done.”

“Alright,” Jesse relented, raising his hands in surrender. “But don’t you get on my ass if you just jinxed the hell outta this.”


	3. Jailbreak

Genji was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling of his room. Every so often, his wrist would twitch upwards, and he would throw the ball up. It would sail, barely brushing the ceiling, and then fall back down into his hand. Every few successes, Genji would reach for the open compartment of his arm and remove another shuriken. Every shuriken removed didn’t lead to an appreciable difference in weight, but eventually, Genji was confident  that the arm would no longer throw him off.

Beside him, Jesse had shoved a cigar in the side of his mouth. He alternated between cleaning his gun, tapping the cigar against the ash tray, or, alternatively, tying different knots into the length of rope curled around his lap.

This was his latest hairbrained addition to the plan. The past few weeks, he’d been full of them. Genji would say that he hadn’t been all that helpful to the overall escape plan, but he did get points for creativity.

“It’s not going to work, cowboy,” Genji sighed as he heard Jesse fumble with the rope again. “Can you even _climb_ a rope?”

“We don’t need to _climb_ it. We just need to get _down_ it.”

“So no?”

“You shut your mouth, sparky. I can climb a rope, and your mom, just fine.”

Behind his helmet, Genji smiled. Although it was an uneasy alliance (Genji had threatened him more times than not, and that was usually how he ended these covert meetings), Genji had become used to his stupidity.

“I’m tellin’ ya. The closest I ever got was scalin’ through a window. I managed to get two miles away to a bus stop before Reinhardt caught up to me.”

“One of the slowest members of Overwatch caught up to you. Was he wearing his suit?”

“ _No,_ thank you. _And_ he had a car, which was a damn sight better than I had.” Jesse’s voice grew wistful. “Maybe we should steal a car. _I_ ,” he emphasized, placing a hand against his chest. “Know how to hotwire.”

A snort, this time. “You’re not special, cowboy. So do I.”

‘What? But you’re a rich feller.”

“ _Was._ And how do you think the Shimada clan _got_ rich?” Genji missed the ball, causing it to hit the bed and roll off towards Jesse. Jesse rolled it back. “We didn’t exactly help people. I was involved in a few operations when I was younger.”

“That involved hotwiring cars?”

“Among other things.”

Jesse whistled, laying back on the bed. “Well, I’ll be damned. What’d your clan specialize in, anyhow? Deadlock did a lotta robbery stuff. Stick-em-ups, shit like that. We also got info, if you didn’t care all that much about us being sneaky.”

“We were large enough that we didn’t specialize much. Drugs, firearms, assassinations. Mostly, it seemed like our work was dealing with rival clans.”

“Sounds like us. When we started up Deadlock, seemed like everyone had something to say about it. Frankly,” he added, almost sheepishly, “I’m surprised it took everything that long to go to shit.”

“Jesse McCree,” Genji stated in faux disbelief, “Are you _implying_ that you should not be eminently _grateful_ for the chance to be a part of the esteemed _Overwatch_?”

“Hey now. I ain’t saying I’m not grateful for not bein’ in prison. It just ain’t, I dunno.” Sighing, Jesse took the cigar out of his mouth and tapped it against the edge of the ashtray. “I ain’t like the other guys. I ain’t able to be fixed up into some superhero. You know? Always been just, y’know. Jesse McCree. Outlaw.”

Any other time, Genji would have openly mocked him for admitting something so emotional. Now, though, Genji couldn’t bring himself to. “Mm. They thought making me into a weapon would make me a good person, so maybe their judgement isn’t the best.”

“Well. That’s what this is all for. Until you get your ass dragged back here, anyway.” Jesse cleared his throat and tried the strength of a knot, pulling hard on both ends. “Oh yeah. This one’s nice.”

Genji glanced over to watch him for a few seconds, before curiosity ate him at something. “What are you planning to do, after? You haven’t been clear.”

“I mean, you don’t gotta know for the plan, do ya? You’ll be long gone by the time I get back to Deadlock.”

Genji returned to his original position. “I guess.”

“It’s not anything too special, is what I mean. I wanna go back to Deadlock. Talk to Ashe, see what kind of stupid bullshit was going through her mind not to break me out of prison. We had a promise to keep each other safe.” Jesse clucked his tongue. “It’s betrayal. Plain and clear. Stab in the back, is what it is.”

“I hope you get what you want.” Genji understood betrayal. It occurred to him, then, that once Jesse left, he would never see him again. Either he’d get himself killed, or Jesse would, or he’d get himself brought back to Overwatch, or … many other possibilities, none of which included him seeing the ridiculous cowboy again. How odd. He wouldn’t call them friends, just like he wouldn’t call him and Dr. Ziegler friends, but … he was familiar, and Genji sometimes confused the difference. “Before you leave for Deadlock, you _are_ trying sushi, though.”

“Not _this_ again.”

“You haven’t tried it ever!? I’ve _had_ sushi in America before, McCree, I know you have it. It’s disgusting,” Genji added, but still. “I know a great place for it near Hanamura.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that won’t arouse suspicion, you going in and ordering up some tuna.”

“Then you order it. I don’t care. But you’re trying it before you go and eat rats.”

“I shoulda never told you that story. It was _one_ time I ate a rat. And it was _fine.”_

Snorting, Genji realized he had pulled the last of the shurikens out of his arm. He gave the ball an experimental toss, and it landed perfectly down into his hand again. “Alright. Let’s go over the plan again.”

 

It was late and Genji was giddy. He hadn’t recalled being giddy in _months._ Genji had thrown on a black turtle neck and cargo pants – not _precisely_ Blackwatch gear, but it would do for running out in the pitch black night. Better than lighting up everything in his immediate area  bright red.

There was something so beautiful in a plan coming together. Jesse was beside him in his Blackwatch uniform, winding the rope around his hands. Although Genji hadn’t been thrilled about the rope plan, he had to admit their options were limited – every door required an ID card to exit, leaving covert windows as their only option.

They’d managed to find an unguarded window in an empty part of the base. Jesse was wider than Genji and the window seemed fine for him. Of course, they hadn’t _tried_ that, but he had measured Jesse at his widest point and it was enough. Barely.

Genji took stock of their materials. A bag with money in it, enough to buy a one-way train ticket as far as possible from this base. Step one was just distance. Farther they were, less chance of being snatched up right away. Step Two was Hanamura, Japan. Although he hadn’t formally bought a ticket yet, Genji didn’t expect much trouble.  In twenty four hours, he’d be pointing the tip of his blade at his brother’s throat. In forty eight, Jesse would be in the dry heat of New Mexico.

Jesse was giddy, too. He had even foregone his cigar, on the off chance that it would impede their getaway.

“Alright, partner,” his companion whispered in the darkness of Genji’s room. It was two in the morning. The last foostep they had heard was over an hour ago; it had likely been Fareeha searching for her nighttime glass of water. “You ready for this rodeo?”

Well, he was going to regret travelling with Jesse about two hours in, he knew. That was going to get old.  But for now, Genji just creaked the door to his room open and snuck outside. His sword was balanced carefully on his back, although he had no other possessions on him. When he arrived at Overwatch, he had nothing. He had not been in the habit of collecting possessions during his time here.

As he snuck through the hallways with Jesse close behind him, Genji was struck by how quiet everything was. It was understandable, of course, but still unnerving. During the day, Genji could hardly escape from the noise. Given he’d spent most of his past week with a chatty cowboy at his side, it had grown even worse. Even Reyes talked too much.

Genji tried to imagine Reyes’ face when he realized that half of Blackwatch had disappeared overnight. Furious, probably. Genji had to hide a snicker at the thought. _That_ was almost worth staying to see.

They came upon the window. Moonlight shone though it, casting light on the floor. It was a clear night with plenty of stars visible. Unfortunate that they did not have utter darkness outside, but at least they would be able to see.

Jesse stopped at the window and placed his bag down. “You go down first,” he remarked to Genji cautiously, and Genji returned a nod. If he did not know any better, he would say the cowboy was nervous. Understandable. He had seen Jesse shoot; there was nobody that could compare. Climbing, however … was not his area. Genji, on the other hand, did not even need the rope. He would be able to use the walls to his advantage and keep an eye out for any potential late-night wanderers on the base. Then, they’d have to book it once Jesse made his way down. Genji went to pop the window open and Jesse put a hand out.

“Hey, uh, wait.”

Genji kept his hand on the cool pane of glass, but twisted himself to look at Jesse quizzically.

“I just wanted to say, uh, regardless of this working or not … it’s been real nice working with ya, y’know. You ain’t so bad underneath all that rage.”

Genji was stupefied.

“You really think we’re going to get shot.”

“Alright, look here, you didn’t do the spit oath, so I’m just sayin’ we’re startin’ with one less bullet in our barrel.”

“I’ve always hated you, but I _might_ change my mind if we both get out of this alive,” Genji vowed in return, a smile spreading from the inside of his helmet. At Genji’s response, Jesse just scowled. Genji gave him a light-hearted shove and returned to the object of their mission. The window.

He placed both hands on the inside of the window frame and gave a firm shove outward, hearing the window’s seals pop. A blast of cold air rushed into the corridor.

An alarm started to sound.

“What the _fuck_ , I thought you said you checked the windows for alarms,” Jesse shot at him, his hands clapping over his ears.

“I did! There wasn’t anything marked here! _Damn it,”_  Genji growled, reaching for the rope anyway.  They had no choice. He tied it to a weight on the floor and tossed the other end out, sending it tumbling to the ground below. “We’ve got no choice now. Follow _right_ after me, McCree.”

With the alarms screaming behind him, Genji pushed himself up and out of the window. Scampering down the side of the wall was child’s play. As he neared the bottom, Genji was suddenly blinded by a bright yellow light. A _goddamn searchlight, fuck fuck fuck, they’re going to dismantle me for sure, fuck fuck fuck._

The light followed him down the wall and onto the ground. His heart was pounding in his throat. Suddenly, Genji’s fear that they would be shot on sight didn’t seem so surreal. _They wouldn’t, they’re Overwatch, they wouldn’t,_ but he couldn’t stop the rising fear. He felt like he was under cross-hairs.

“Genji!” Head snapping up, Genji saw Jesse start to make his way down the rope. He was sliding down it as fast as he could, stopping every now and then to maintain his balance. Suddenly, he stopped his movement, keeping himself steady on the rope by his feet alone. “You _run!_ I’ll cover you!” In the night, Jesse fumbled with his hip holster, extracted Peacekeeper, and fired into the air.

_Well, if the alarm hadn’t woken everyone up … they are now._

The sound cracked the still night and echoed back, reverberating across the field. The searchlight jerked as if in shock, before frantically moving up to cover Jesse on the wall. Suddenly, Jesse was illuminated against the white stone of the base. He started to slide his way down again, but it would be another minute before he reached the bottom. Two, at most.

Genji didn’t have time to wait for him to reach the ground. He followed Jesse’s command and started to sprint in the other direction.

They would be looking for Jesse. He could escape in the night while they finished arresting Jesse. If the fool didn’t get himself arrested quickly, that was, then it would buy him additional _time._ That was all he needed: _time._ Genji sprinted across the grass. If he just got out of the base limits, get to the bus station, then -

“You’ll never catch me alive, you sons of bitches!” Genji flinched as he heard Jesse fire a few more shots into the night. It seemed like he had foregone sliding down the rope completely.

Now that Genji was terrified for his life, worried that he’d lose the second life he had to work so hard to get, he was undyingly grateful. _Oh gods, thank you, Jesse. Thank you, you amazing, fantastic, wonderful friend, I’ll pay you back, I’ll find you, I owe you my life, please just let me get out, please –_

In the split second where Genji looked back, he saw Jesse hanging onto the rope with one hand. He was swaying dangerously as the knockback from the gun moved him from side to side. The wind had kicked up, too. Jesse was in serious danger of falling. Still, the searchlight remained trained on him, the alarm still making Genji’s ears ring. He heard the revving of an engine from somewhere on the base.

 

Genji saw a movement in the window. Someone was there. Jesse was still high off the ground, being tossed around against the side of the base. Distantly, he saw a hand reach out, trying to pull the rope up. Jesse jerked wildly at the movement, his grip shaky on the rope.

If he fell, he’d get injured, if he was lucky. If he wasn’t lucky, he’d fall on his neck. Genji would let the man get captured for him, maybe, but  -- he couldn’t let his friend _die_ for him.

The vengeance could wait later. Jesse didn’t need to die for Shimada clan theatrics. He wasn’t part of this.

Coming to a stuttering stop, Genji paused and then started to book it back to the base.

Jesse wasn’t even looking at him, still waving his gun around and hanging perilously from the rope. Genji’s breath was coming in quick pants as he willed his legs to go faster, he just needed to be there, he could try and catch –

The rope snapped, a hand with a knife retreating back through the window.

There was a hearty yell from the cowboy as he no longer had anything to hold onto. He fell, his gun falling from his hands as he plummeted to the earth below. Genji was huffing as he reached it, his fingers brushing against the base wall. “Jesse, I’ve got –”

Jesse fell directly into Genji’s outstretched arms. The momentum of it all caused Genji to stumble backward, eventually collapsing into a heap. Jesse went limp, dazed, on top of him.

_Ow._

“Genji?” Jesse asked breathlessly, looking more than a little stunned. “Told you to run.”

All around them, it appeared the base was going into lockdown. The searchlight was firmly on top of the both of them. The alarms still sounded, echoing and beating around the inside of Genji’s helmet. And, more alarmingly, the approaching sound of combat boots. There was no chance of escaping now. Even if he got up, Genji had lost his headstart. For the cowboy.

At the moment, he couldn’t even think of that. He had caught Jesse. Jesse was fine, perhaps a little bruised, but otherwise fine. Genji laughed triumphantly, his head falling back. “Don’t …” he huffed out, feeling the solid ground beneath the back of his helmet. “Hate you.”

Jesse’s head leaned back against the front of Genji’s helmet. _Gods,_ did he smell awful.  “We are so _fucked,”_ Jesse pondered with a chuckle. “Welp, it’s been a hell of a lot of fun, sugar.”

As if on cue, the blinding spotlight seemed to dim. Two tall figures stood in its way, staring down at the collapsed escapees. Genji’s visor adjusted to make sense of it, but Jesse had no such luck.

The figure came into view – Commander Gabriel Reyes, pinching the bridge of his nose hard. He was dressed more casually than Genji had ever seen him, in a pair of black sweats with a loose robe thrown over top. Beside him, Angela Ziegler, her armored wings splayed out and glittering faintly in the moonlight. She did not look overly pleased, probably because this entire incident had required her to don her armor in the middle of the night. It was her disappointed look more than Reyes that made Genji flinch in fear. _Oops._

“You _dumbasses,”_  Gabe grunted, “Are in a lot of trouble.”

 

 

“I’m not sayin’ you’re wrong,” Jesse explained tactfully, a broom in his hands. Even if he was holding it, Genji felt doubtful that the man was actually planning on _using_ it. He just liked to show off. “I’m just sayin’ you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Big difference.”

“It was _disgusting._ Why would it come in a can?”

“How else you gonna get it out?”

“You do realize that most forms of cheese do _not_ come in a can.” Genji waited a beat. “ _Please_ tell me you know that most forms of cheese do not come in a can.”

“Well, sure, I’m just sayin’ the _best_ kind –”

“Do not finish the sentence. I beg you.”

Jesse snorted beside him and picked up the broom handle, starting to sweep half-heartedly. Genji stood nearby with a mop, dunking it in the water and placing it on the floor.

 _Normally,_ he would have exploded at the mere thought of being tasked with physical labor. But, for one thing, he figured a few weeks of cleaning the floors wasn’t the worst punishment that could’ve been given for a throwing the base into red alert. For another … well, Jesse somehow made it somewhat bearable. Not what he would call a _good time,_ but bearable.

“Aw, shit. Look up. Boss boys are watching us.” Jesse commented, glancing up at the overhanging walkway. Indeed, both Commanders Reyes and Morrison were standing up there. It was Saturday, technically off-duty, and they both had dark beer bottles in their hands. They were leaning over the railing. Commander Reyes gave a sarcastic wave. “Say, look at what they’re drinking. You ever had beer, Genji?”

“What? _Yes,_ we do have that in Japan. We also happen to have running water.”

“You ain’t never had moonshine, though, I’m sure. You should mix some beer with a bit of sweet sarsaparilla.”

“What are you saying? Are you having a stroke?”

“No, it’s a – fuck you, it’s a _thing._ I’ll go get you some after this shit is over. I know a guy. Think we could snag a ride from someone?”

That had been another allowance during their ‘punishment’, one that had been a thorough surprise. Reyes had begrudgingly admitted, with Ana glowering in the background, that maybe base confinement was a little harsh, even with serious criminal behavior in the past.

At first, Genji had been thrilled. These fools were practically giving him the chance of just walking out the door, scot free.

Then Reyes had dropped the bomb that their next mission involved going after a satellite branch of the Shimada Clan. Genji had recognized their names. He had only heard his Father refer to them as the ‘traffickers’. His assistance, Reyes promised, would be invaluable.

A few months longer, then, and then he’d make another escape attempt. Hanzo was still out there, somewhere, and he could wait. Perhaps Hanzo even knew he was alive and was trying to track him down. If that were the case, Genji _wanted_ Jesse there to see that. Somehow, it felt validating to know that someone could be there to _see_ the monster his brother had become. That his anger came from one _monstrous_ person, and that monstrous person was not himself.

That could all wait until later. Now, he could see the gears turning in Jesse’s head. “Dr. Ziegler spoke about heading into town,” Genji offered. “We could get a ride with her.”

“Now _there’s_ an idea,” Jesse pondered. To Genji’s frustration, he ceased his work to lean against his broom in thought. “And hell, we’d find some way back. Rein and Torb usually get back _pretty_ late.”

“We’re never going to be _done_ with this if you don’t clean the floor, _fool,”_ Genji complained. Frustrated, he jabbed at Jesse’s side with the handle of his mop. Jesse yelped in surprised laughter but grabbed his broom regardless, aiming it at Genji’s armor.

\--

“So,” Jack commented, turning so that his back was against the railing. Reyes preferred to stare down at the cyborg and the cowboy … fighting with cleaning equipment. Amazing. “Did you know?”

“I know you better than anyone else on this base, Morrison, but I can’t read your mind. Did I know what?”

“That they’d try to run off together.”

“Yeah, okay.” Gabe chuckled. “Did I know that they’d make nice if I lumped them in together long enough, that they’d hatch a big plan to escape together, that they’d fail, and that they’d make friends and make each other a little less miserable as a result? That what you’re asking me, Jack?”

As Gabe turned his head to look at his friend, all he saw was Jack raising an eyebrow at him.

Winking, Gabe knocked back his bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, everyone! <3 Really appreciate it, if you had any particular thoughts about the story let me know!
> 
> I always thought Genji's trajectory was interesting, because as we see (particularly in Retribution I think), Genji is very, very angry for a while. I think a lot of that anger sort of misshapes how Genji perceives certain actions -- which is why I have him labeled as an unreliable narrator here, because his understandings of people's intentions (particularly Angela's, Jesse's, and Reyes') are skewed. 
> 
> On the other hand, I always think of Jesse as brutally honest. He wants to get out of here as much as Genji, so he's not really in the business of making friends in Blackwatch -- but seeing a chance to escape, he'll take it right away. I wanted to explore that dynamic, plus to examine how they might be friends (because in this AU, they are similar age and have oddly similar backgrounds despite growing up in very different environments).
> 
> Thanks again!


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